The Element of Surprise
by Eileen
Summary: How do you give a much-needed medicine injection to a powerless archangel who's terrified of needles? That's the problem confronting our heroes. Luckily, Dean has an idea. He is the man with the plan. Even if it's a stupid plan.
1. Chapter 1

_(Author's note: this was inspired by a fic I read where Dean had to give Cas an injection in the butt (and then some cuddling, which was the best part). I switched characters because I wanted to see how they would get around Gabriel's "issues" with needles. Takes place at the end of Season 13.)_

* * *

The bloodcurdling scream echoed through the bunker and brought Dean running to the room that was currently Gabriel's. When he got there, he found Sam and Cas standing by the bed anxiously. Both seemed all right; neither one appeared to be the source of the scream.

"What the hell's going on?" he demanded.

"Dean, stay back," Sam said in a low voice, without turning around. "I'll explain it all to you in a moment, but you need to stay out of the way."

Dean nodded, even though he knew his brother couldn't see him, and took a few steps back through the doorway. Sam dropped to one knee and spoke in a low, soothing voice.

"Gabriel? Gabe? It's me, Sam. You need to come out, okay?"

His only answer was a terrified whimper coming from the corner where the bed met the wall. From this angle, Dean could see the archangel crouched there. His face was flushed red and he was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

"Flashback?" Dean whispered to Cas.

The angel nodded. "A bad one. Let Sam handle it."

Fine. Dean kept quiet and waited to see what Sam would do.

"It's okay, Gabe. I put it away, see?" He spread his empty hands wide. "I don't want to hurt you. But we have to give you the medicine for your fever, and the doctor said that it's not available any other way. Now I'll give you a few minutes to calm down, and then we'll try again."

"No . . ." The word was barely more than a whisper. "Please . . ."

"I'll be back in a minute, okay, Gabe? We'll talk about it then." He backed out of the room, keeping his hands in sight, and then he quietly closed the door and turned to Dean.

"Sorry about that. I didn't want too many people in the room, making him nervous. He was okay until I got the needle out, and then he just-"

"Freaked out," Dean finished for him. "I get it. Start at the beginning. Four days ago, when I left for Sioux Falls."

"Okay. Well, Gabe started feeling sick a few hours after you left. He said it was nothing, and he'd just sleep it off, so we just left him alone for a while."

"When we checked on him in the morning," Cas continued, "he was quite feverish and in pain. We gave him Tylenol, but it did nothing to help. So we brought him to the urgent care center downtown."

"The doctor diagnosed it as a rare infection," Sam said, picking up the story again. "Unfortunately, this particular infection could only be cured with a series of injections."

"And therein lies our problem," Cas finished.

"Didn't you tell the doctor he had . . . issues with needles?" asked Dean.

"I tried," said Sam. "Without going into specifics, I mentioned his PTSD. The doctor offered to give him the treatment right there in the office. With him in restraints. I thought he'd be more comfortable with us, in familiar surroundings. I guess I was wrong."

"So now how the hell are we gonna do this?" Dean mused.

"I don't know," said Sam. "The moment he sees that needle, it's all over."

"So don't let him see it."

"How?"

"Sneak up on him."

"How the hell do we sneak up on an angel?"

"Distract him. If he doesn't expect it, he won't panic."

"Distract him? How do we do that?"

"Cas, can you talk to him?"

"About what?" the angel inquired.

"Anything. Your childhood, how you're gonna fix Heaven, ten things you hate about me, whatever. Get him engaged in the conversation. Once his attention's on you and not us, we'll sneak up from behind and whammo!" He thrust one hand forward in a stabbing motion.

Cas looked alarmed. "Don't hurt him! Any more than necessary, I mean."

"We won't," Sam assured him. "We'll make it quick."

"Okay." Dean looked at the two of them. "Let's go back in and do this."

They went in single file: Sam first, then Cas behind him, and then Dean. Just before they reached the bed, Sam passed the needle to Dean behind his back.

"Keep this out of sight," he whispered. "Don't let him see it."

Dean nodded and moved behind his brother. Cas came around so that he was in Gabriel's direct line of sight.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked.

Gabriel sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . . freak out. I'm not thinking clearly-"

"It's all right. Gabriel, do you remember our first trip to New York?"

"Like it was yesterday." The archangel smiled wistfully. "Nineteen thirty-two. We rode all the rides at Coney Island. We had salt water taffy for the first time. I ate yours because you didn't like it. Then we rode the streetcars all day long. One to another, to another, to another . . ."

"You like New York?" Sam asked. He had shifted around to the far side, where he could watch Dean and give him the signal when the moment came. It wasn't quite time yet; Gabriel was nostalgic but not completely lost in his memories. Keep him talking a little while longer . . .

"Oh, yeah, I love New York," Gabe sighed. "I love it in the Thirties, I love it in the Fifties . . . I won a dance contest in the Seventies, did I ever tell you that?"

Dean was close enough now to feel the heat coming off him. Damn, the guy really was sick. He needed this injection sooner rather than later. But to tip his hand too soon would ruin the whole plan.

"Really?" Sam said, keeping his eyes on Dean. "Like Tony Manero?"

"Oh, Tony Manero had nothin' on me. I **ruled** that dance floor every Friday and Saturday night! I should show you my moves sometime, Samsquatch."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. He locked eyes with Dean and nodded once more. The moment had come.

Dean shifted the needle to his right hand and with his left hand, pulled Gabe's trousers and underpants down just far enough to get the needle all the way in. It was now or never. He inserted it into the exposed buttock and pressed the plunger.

"I was the man!" Gabriel, unaware of the impending violation to his nether regions, continued. "The king of Club Fifty-ThreEEEEAAAAOOOOWWWWWW! WHAT THE HELL?"

He turned around to see Dean hiding something behind his back.

"Sorry, man. We had to do it when you weren't looking."

Gabe struggled to regain control of himself. "If I still had my powers, you'd be a puddle on the floor right now!"

"If you still had your powers," Dean countered, "I wouldn't have had to give you the friggin' shot in the ass!"

"Dean," Sam warned him. "Your job is done here. Go wait out in the hall."

As Dean backed out of the room (to hide the needle, which was the whole point of giving him the shot in the ass), he saw Castiel helping his brother into bed. "You just rest for now," Cas said, pulling up the covers. "We'll be around if you need us."

"Gabe, I'm sorry," Sam said as he followed Cas out the door. "There really was no other way." He shut the door behind him.

Out in the hall, Dean pumped the fist that wasn't holding the needle. "All right! Mission accomplished! That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Cas and Sam were both looking at him strangely.

"What?"

"Dean," Sam began, "it's a **series** of injections."

"As in more than one?"

"Twice a day for three days."

Math wasn't Dean's best subject, but this was a simple problem. "Crap," he hissed as he realized, "we have to do this five more times?"

Cas nodded. "And we've lost the element of surprise. He'll be expecting it next time."

"When's the next dose due?"

"Eight to twelve hours," Sam told him.

"Well, that gives us plenty of time. Leave it to me. I'm the man with the plan. I am Plan Man." Dean gave them a reassuring grin. "We'll do this. Even if we have to tie him to the damn bed."

"Maybe his grace will recover enough that he can heal himself," Cas suggested.

Sam shook his head. "Maybe in a few days. Not in eight hours. And we won't be able to trick him the same way again."

"So we'll come up with a different way," said Dean. "Trust me. Even a trickster can be tricked. **If** you know how."

"Well, if anyone can trick the trickster," said Sam, "it's you."

"Exactly! I am the man!"

"Just don't ask him to show off his dance moves," said Cas. "That award he won was an Honorable Mention. But don't bring it up."

"Don't worry, Cas." Dean shook his head. "I can come up with a much better plan than a dance-off. Star-Lord ain't got nothin' on me."


	2. Chapter 2

_(So, originally, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I decided to add two more chapters, one today and one tomorrow. Enjoy!)_

* * *

The second time they had to give Gabriel his injection, it went much better. Mostly because Dean wasn't in the room when it happened. Ten minutes before the dose was due, Sam asked his brother to go to the store and pick up an extra gallon of milk.

"But it's my plan!" Dean protested.

"I know," Sam told him. "It's a great plan. And Cas and I will carry out your plan exactly as you laid it out for us. You just can't be here."

"But it's **my** plan!"

"And it's a good plan, like I said. The two of us can handle it."

"You can't be the one every time," Cas added. "Gabriel might subconsciously come to associate you with pain in the-"

"Cas!"

"Besides," said Sam, "we do need milk. I promise I'll let you be in the room for the next one. You can't hold the needle, though."

"Why not? It's my-"

"If the word plan comes out of your mouth one more time, Dean, so help me, I'll shoot you. We'll handle the plan. You just go get milk. It'll be over before you get home."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Go!" Cas urged him.

In the end, grumbling, Dean went. It was a brilliant plan. It might be the best plan that had ever been planned. And it was **his** plan, dammit!

Sam knew they didn't have much time. The store was only ten minutes away; if they wanted to get this done before Dean came back, they'd have to work quickly.

"I'll talk," he said, handing the needle to Cas. "You deliver. Keep it out of sight until I give you the signal."

"Is it necessary," the angel asked, "to inject him in the-"

"No. The arm will work just as well. The important thing is that he doesn't see the needle."

"He'll know it's coming."

"I know. We have to keep his mind off it so he doesn't . . . get upset."

"That's an understatement."

"Yeah, well . . . come on. We don't have much time."

They found Gabriel trying to get out of bed, but unable to hold himself up for too long. His arms were shaking, and his face was covered in sweat. He tried one more time and then collapsed against the pillow, breathing hard.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked him.

Gabe closed his eyes for a second and moaned. "I just wanted to go to the bathroom on my own! But I can't even sit up!"

"We left you a container for that purpose."

"I just want to stand on my own two feet for once! I hate being so weak, and helpless, and powerless!"

"It won't last much longer," said Sam. "Once you get better, your grace should start recovering, and then you'll be back to your old self."

Gabriel was shaking his head. "You don't get it, do you, Samsquatch? I'll **never** be the same again! Not after what . . . what he did to me. Do you know what it's like to have every bone in your body broken, systematically and repeatedly? To have my mouth sewn shut when he got tired of hearing me screaming? And then to be drained of my grace, bit by bit, day after day, like-like a damn milk cow!"

It was a good thing Dean wasn't there, Sam thought. He wouldn't have been able to help laughing at that mental image. And laughter, at that moment, would not have been a good thing.

Sam didn't laugh. Neither did Cas.

After a moment, Gabriel caught his breath. Then he reached for the container and used it, under the covers. He finished, cleaned his hands with a wipe from the package beside the bed, and then said, "All right. Do what you came here to do. I'm ready."

"You know?" Sam asked.

"I didn't think you were here to talk about the weather. Let's go, let's get it over with. Should I roll over?"

"No, just roll your sleeve up a bit. I can give it to you in the arm."

"So you don't need to-"

"No. Gabe, we don't want to play games with you. We don't want to trick you, or deceive you, or treat you like a child or an idiot. We just want to help. Now roll up your sleeve, and I'll let you know when to look away."

"I thought I was doing it," said Cas.

Sam looked at him. "Do you want to?"

"I thought that's what we were doing."

"All right, fine. I'll give you the signal, and you go ahead and do it. But no more behind-the-back stuff. No more plans."

"Dean will be so disappointed."

"I'll talk to Dean. Just get ready."

Gabriel sat up as much as he could and started rolling up the sleeve of the T-shirt he was wearing as a pajama top. It was one of Sam's old ones, so there was quite a lot of rolling involved. The shirt pretty much covered Gabe's entire body; the shorts he wore underneath were all but invisible. Dean might have made a comment about the shirt looking like a dress; another reason that Sam was glad he wasn't here.

"Is that enough?" Gabe looked down at the exposed skin of his upper arm.

Sam nodded. "That's fine. You can look away and brace yourself now."

"You won't . . . take anything from me, while you're in there?"

"Gabriel," Sam said slowly, "I give you my word that we will not take your grace from you without your consent. Your body is your own; we won't force anything on you without telling you first. Are you ready?"

Gabe turned his head toward the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay, go ahead."

Cas stepped forward and plunged the needle into his brother's arm. When it was empty, he withdrew it and quickly stuffed it into his pocket, point-up so he didn't stab himself. "There. It's done."

"And only four more to go," Gabriel said with fake cheerfulness. "Can't wait."

There was a shout from out in the hall. "Hey, guys? I got the milk."

"We're in here," Sam called out to him.

A moment later, Dean appeared in the doorway. "Milk's in the fridge. Now we can-"

"Dean," said Cas. "We've already done it."

Dean looked from Cas to Sam, who nodded, and then to Gabe, who was rubbing his arm and leaning back against the pillow. "You didn't wait for me?"

"We didn't want to leave it too long," said Sam.

"But what about the plan? I had a plan! I planned it!"

"Plans change. You can do the next one."

Gabriel looked terrified at the prospect of Dean administering the next injection. But when the time came, it was Sam who did the deed, after a chat about comic books and an episode of _Doctor Who._

"How did I not see this before now?" Gabe asked, as he rolled up his sleeve and braced himself. "I mean, I heard of it. I knew it was out there. I just never needed to see it for myself before. I guess there really is more to life than porn."

* * *

The fourth time, Cas came in alone. Gabriel seemed surprised to see him on his own, with no Winchesters backing him up.

"Where is it?" he asked as soon as Cas had crossed the threshold.

"Where is what?"

"You know what. I know you have it with you. Where is it?"

Cas looked down at the floor for a second. "It's in my pocket," he said.

"Well, go on. Get it over with. I'll close my eyes and count to three, and you just do it."

"Gabriel . . . I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" The archangel laughed bitterly. "There's nothing you can do to hurt me worse than . . ." He trailed off and stared at the wall. For a second, Castiel contemplated seizing his chance and doing it then, but he held back for a moment. Not yet.

"Gabriel, I . . . I wish I could have done something to help you, but we didn't even know you were still alive! We wouldn't have just abandoned you-"

"You were saving the world, Cassie." Gabriel looked tired and resigned. "In the face of that, what does one wayward angel matter?"

" **You** matter." Cas laid his hand over his brother's. "You matter a lot. Not just to me. To all of us. We want you to get better."

"All of you?"

"You know Sam cares about you. Dean cares, too, in his own way. He uses sarcasm and crude humor to hide his fear and pain. Just like you do."

"Yeah?"

"He would never admit it, but . . . I think the reason you get under his skin so much is that he recognizes how much alike you two are. You pretend that nothing bothers you, when deep down . . . deep down, you feel everything. You just don't want to admit it."

Gabriel stared at him for such a long time that Cas wondered if he should perhaps come back later. Then the elder angel said, "Where is the little fledgling with the beautiful wings who asked me so many questions? How did you get so wise?"

"By making mistakes," Cas told him. "A lot of them. Including the one that cost me my wings. I know what it's like to feel powerless, and weak, and in pain. We want to help you. That's all."

"You want my grace. Sam said you need it for a spell."

"We won't take it from you without your consent. If you can't give it, we'll find another way. Your days of being a-how did you put it?-a 'damn milk cow' are over."

In spite of himself, Gabriel smiled. "That sounds so funny coming out of your mouth. Okay, go ahead. This is it, right? This is the last one?"

"No. There are two more tomorrow."

"But I feel a lot better!"

"The doctor specified that the entire course of medication had to be followed. Even if you're feeling better. You won't get well unless you complete the treatment."

Gabriel pouted. "Fine. As long as it's you that does it. I trust you."

"You're going to be okay, Gabriel. I promise you."

Gabriel looked away and shut his eyes tightly. "I'll never be okay again," he said, bracing himself for the sting of the needle. "But I'll survive."

 _(Final chapter up tomorrow!)_


	3. Chapter 3

It was the last time. The final injection. Three days of misery had come to an end.

"GImme that thing," Dean said. "I'll do it."

"We promised him no more plans," Sam reminded him.

"I'm not planning anything. I'm just gonna go in and do it."

"Are you sure that's wise?" asked Cas.

"He's feeling better. He'll listen to reason now."

"We're here to back you up."

"Fine. Back me up from outside the room. I'll call you if I need you."

Dean shoved the needle into his jacket pocket and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

Dean resisted the urge to make a smartass remark. "It's me."

"It's open."

He went in to find Gabe sitting on the edge of the bed. When Dean approached, the archangel looked up, a bit apprehensively.

"So this is it, then? The last one."

"Yup." Dean pulled the chair over and sat down. "So listen, Gabe . . . I'm sorry about stabbing you in the ass."

Gabe waved a hand in the air dismissively. "You did what you had to do. Just don't enjoy it," he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Dean took that as a good sign. The old Trickster was on his way back.

"How do you stand it?"

The question took the hunter by surprise. "Stand what?"

"Feeling so weak, so helpless. Your body betraying you."

"Oh. Well, um . . . of course, I don't **get** sick-"

There was a noise from outside the door like someone stifling laughter.

"Shut up, Sam."

"Dude."

Dean shut the door firmly with his boot. "Anyway, like I was saying, I don't get sick, but I do get hurt. A lot. And there's only one way to get through it."

"What's that?"

"Together." Dean wasn't normally a touchy-feely person, but he put a comforting hand on Gabe's arm. "You're part of our family now, and we'll always take care of you. Just don't pull stupid crap like that revenge thing again."

"It had to be done."

"Yeah, well, you could have waited till your grace had recovered a bit more. You almost bled out all over our motel room."

Gabe shifted a little to face Dean directly. "Look me in the eye," he said, "and tell me you wouldn't do the same, if someone hurt you. No-if someone hurt **Sam**."

Dean didn't even hesitate. "You know I would. But I wouldn't go in without backup."

"I **had** backup. I had you guys."

"Look, we could debate this all night, or we could get to the point, which is: you don't need to be afraid. We're here for you, dude. Now let me give you the friggin' injection, and we're done here."

Gabriel rolled up his sleeve (one of Dean's old shirts this time, still big but not quite dress-length on him) and looked away. "I never want to see or be anywhere near another needle ever again," he said. "When it comes time for that spell you need, I'll give you my grace. No one else touches it. I'll extract it myself."

"Sounds like a plan," said Dean. He jabbed the needle into the exposed skin and pressed the plunger. It seemed to take a long time to empty, but maybe that was just because this was the last time Dean or anyone else would have to do it. Finally the yellow liquid was gone, and Dean withdrew the needle and put it back in his pocket.

"There we go," he said. "Done. That's it. No more."

Gabriel turned his eyes towards Heaven and breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you like. We've got your back."

"I said I'd help you," Gabe said. He stretched out on the bed and rolled over so that he was on his side, facing Dean. "Just don't ever- **ever** -stab me in the ass again. Or any other part of my anatomy."

"I guarantee it." The angel really was looking a lot better. "You need anything? Food, water, help to the bathroom?"

"No. I'm good. Just hand me that remote, would ya? Please?"

Dean picked up the remote from the floor beside the bed and handed it over. "Here you go. Whatcha watchin'?"

"Ah, it's not what," Gabe said with an impish grin. "It's who."

"Huh?" Then Dean saw the BBC logo. "Oh, right. Well . . . have fun."

"Dean?" he called, before the hunter could make it to the door.

Dean turned back. "What?"

"My brother seems to think that . . . we're alike. You and I. That we both hide our pain in sarcasm and . . ."

"Yeah, I can see that." Dean smiled. "He meant it as a compliment, you know. In case you were wondering."

"Oh, I know. I've seen the way he looks at you. Give him a big squeeze for me, will you? You know you want to."

"Why does everybody think," Dean exploded, "that Cas and I want to . . . you know? I like him! He's my friend! But I'm not into that!"

The angel chuckled. "Methinks the flannel-clad idiot doth protest too much. I've seen the way you look at him, too. Close the door on your way out."

"I do **not** -"

"Yeah, yeah. Goodbye, Dean. I want to watch my program."

Dean shut the door behind him, resisting the urge to slam it. Sam and Cas were nowhere to be found. Just as well. Dean didn't think he could face Cas right now anyway, not after what Gabe had said.

"He's out of his mind," he muttered to himself. "There's nothing goin' on between me and Cas. I don't care how he looks at me."

From out of nowhere, a shower of paperback books landed on Dean's head. He brushed them away, then bent to pick one up. Then another. They were all the same book. The cover showed two men who looked remarkably like Dean and Cas in what could only be called a lovers' embrace. The title was ANGEL IN YOUR ARMS.

Dean just shook his head and laughed. "Guess that means he's better."


End file.
